Rivalry
by lovelyklaine
Summary: Team rivals, Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson take their mutual hatred for each other too far off the field. What happens when their passion for the game turns into an underlining passion for each other? AU. Rated M for SMUT.
1. Prologue

Prologue

My teeth sunk into my lip, my knee bouncing up and down on the ground as I sat on the old wooden bench in the locker room. I could taste the harsh copper of my blood as my tongue ran along my busted lip. The heavy pants of my breathing were the only thing that could be heard in the empty space. My heart was pounding right along with it as fought it's best to elevate enough to keep up with the rest of my heightened physical responses. I swallowed the lump in my throat, dry from the lack of water.

Picking up the grass-stained bottom of my jersey, I brought it up to wipe the mud and sweat from my forehead. The white mesh material was able to smudge off the dirt some. Annoyed, I decided to lift the jersey over my head and take it completely off. In frustration with myself, I balled it up and threw it violently against the lockers, an echoing sound of defeat rattling throughout the entire room.

I looked down at my muddy cleats; clumps of dirt and grass from the field were stuck in their rigid soles. I sucked air in through my nose sharply as I skimmed them along the concrete floor, knocking off what I could.

"Fuck," I groaned out the curse as I rested my elbows on my knees, my hands running and fisting through my wet sweaty hair, making it stick up in all random directions. I couldn't believe how I could let myself crack under the pressure. That wasn't the player that I was. Every mistake that I have ever made feels like I am drowning and my frustration level is holding me down into the water.

I hate failure. I hate failure even more when it's during a big game. Everyone from our town is there to watch and cheer us on. They put all their faith in us to win. It's like having a million eyes all drawn onto you every second and for every little move that you make. It's a pressure that drives me to do my absolute best. I don't remember the last time that I played the game to for myself or just to get lost in it and have fun. No, I was playing for them. I was playing for _him,_ even though he's my opponent, the one that I have to takedown.

I have to prove it to him that I'm better than he is. He's not allowed to see that I'm weak because then he can easily strike in with his power and control that he has over me. Tonight was just one of those nights that something about him got to me and I choked up. Almost two entire towns of people watched me buckle down and lose my focus because of him.

My body stiffened suddenly when I heard the creaking sound of the large metal door of the locker room open. I fought back the natural response to crane my neck to see who it was. I knew who it was. I looked up at the small clock in the corner, right above my coach's office. He was right on time.

My eyes stayed down to the floor, glancing when I caught a glance of movement. His matching dirty cleats stopped a few inches away from me.

"Don't take it so bad, Kurt." His voice was dark and thick like it always was. Now, it had a hint of huskiness to it.

I shrugged him off when he placed his hand on my shoulder. His grasp was firm, his fingertips digging into my shoulder muscles on my shoulder blades. My jaw clenched tighter to the point where I was already feeling the soreness.

He chuckled, pointing over to where my jersey was strewn across the floor. "Starting without me?"

"I'm in no mood for this right now." I gritted out.

"You know you don't have to look into my eyes." He ran his fingers along the nape of my neck. "So, will it be the shower this time or up against a locker?" His burning touch ran up my jawline, smoothing over to teasingly calm me down.

I shook my head, pushing his arm away from me and standing up. One of my hands balled up into a first as my other harshly pushed his chest. "I told you I don't want to."

"Temper, temper, babe. Where was the spitfire out on the field tonight?" He smirked at me, his teeth slightly showing.

"Cut it out!" I finally lost it and shouted at him, both of my hands found themselves pinning him against the lockers, grabbing his jersey by his broad shoulders. My breathing quickly picked up again as I glared at him angrily. His face gleaming with his smirk that I could never stand, the one that let me know that he was still winning.

"Against the lockers it is then." He mumbled before gripping my locked wrists, his hands clasping me so strongly that my hands lost their hold on his shoulders, giving him the opportunity to switch places with me.

I winced as my bare back collided with the metal of the locker, my eyes squeezing shut so I didn't have to look at his face. My nerves stung as the pain shot through me. I felt his warm hands grabbed both sides of my face as his hot wet lips crashed onto mine, already moving frantically over mine as he leaned his body weight against me to keep me trapped between him and the locker.

I couldn't help but kiss him back with just as much force, moaning deeply. When my mouth opened to get the sound out, his tongue pushed through my teeth to run along mine. The taste of his saliva mixed with mine as my tongue wrestled to be dominant over his. His fight was so forceful against mine that I just couldn't let myself get tangled with him.

His hands moved from holding my face. One went to rest in my neck and the other gripped my hip as his began to grind against me, rolling in a fast pace. I knew from past times that his next move was going to be detaching his lips from mine and going for the pulse point on my neck. I had to be quick if I wanted the upper hand again.

As he began tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth my own clashed against his. My upper lip tried to take his between my lips, sucking on it lightly. My hands went to his sides, running up them, bunching up his jersey that smelled of his sweat. Already, I was letting him have all the dominance as my mind just wanted to caress every inch of his body. This wasn't what it was about.

I was able to breathe again when his lips left mine completely to trail hot open-mouthed kisses along my chin, jawline, and then to my neck, where he buried his face. His dark curls brushed against my cheek and I turned my head away from them, giving him more access to my neck. His lips were practically latched to my skin like a leech, sucking, pulling my skin from me and into his tight mouth. His teeth were able to pick up a little pinch of my skin. His lips always felt so good on me and a low pleasured groan rumbled from my throat like thunder. I could feel him smirking against my neck.

The hand that was on my hip skimmed over my pelvis, his thumb sinking into the waistband of my shorts and snapping them back against my skin. At that moment, I knew that I was at failure again. It was too late for me to try and be dominant one. In a short time he was going to have me whimpering his name and begging him for release.

He pulled away from my neck and looked directly at my face, his free hand mockingly stroking my cheek as he places his hand over my erection, holding it in the palm of his hand. His thumb slowly strokes over it. He leans his body forward more as his hand pushes against me again, causing me to let out another light groan.

I freeze a bit under his controlling hand, letting my back arch slightly off the locker. My hips come up, purposefully grinding my erection into his hand, letting him know how eager and ready I was for him.

I knew he wasn't going to give into my demands completely. He slipped his other hand down, running it down the full length of my torso to pull my shorts down. I already removed my cup prior to his arrival. My bulge is now visible entirely. His darkened eyes trace around my erection before his fingers run along the thin cotton of my underwear, feeling my dampness as he nears my covered tip. His hand goes back to massaging my hard member, working his hand harder, squeezing and rubbing down on me. He feels my pre-cum seep through onto his hand, letting him know how aroused I was by his actions.

He licked his lips as he watched and felt how I reacted to him. Both of his hands now move to my hips, just above my waistband of my underwear. He hooked the fingertips of his thumbs under the tight elastic and let his fingers teasingly tap against my pelvis, pretending to rethink what he wanted to do.

"Shit," I growl in frustration, bucking my hips against his, wanting to feel his arousal against mine. "If you don't do this soon, I have no problem with forcing you." My voice grew strained and sterner with each word.

"I'll take care of you in due time. Let me play around for a bit, just like I played you in the game tonight." He told me, keeping his dominant composure over the situation, his fingers snapping at the elastic as he slowly slid his thumbs further down.

"At the rate you're going, I plan to." I growl again while cursing and looking straight at him. I raised my hands and trailed them down his arms before holding his wrists firmly, making him pull my underwear down to reveal and free my throbbing erection. Still holding onto his wrists, I lifted his hands and brought them toward my cock and rubbed my tip along the palm of his right hand, letting my pre-cum speckle onto his skin.

His hands wrapped around my length, holding me strongly so I wasn't the one who got to control his strokes. "If you don't let go of me, then I'm not going continue," he told me, giving me a look. I let out an annoyed sigh and released his wrists from my grip.

His motions start off slow, letting his hands get used to the sensitivity of my rigid shaft. The pre-cum and sweat from his palms makes it easier for his hands to create a smooth friction along my base, pulling up on me with ease.

"Say my name," he growled at me, clamping his hand around me with a sharp pull forward, bringing my ass and back off the locker.

At this point my head was titled back and rolling back and forth across the lockers as his hands worked me. I was already so close to releasing into his hands that holding back was impossible.

His name was toxic as I felt it wanting to flow right off my tongue. I didn't want his name to be said in such an erotic and vulnerable way but he made me feel so hyped up that I wasn't my right self.

"B-Blaine" I said in a hushed tone as I felt my cock twitch in his hold, my hips buckling down as I began to ride against his hands. His devilish grin spreading across his face with victory. The same sheer look that he gave me right after he scored the final goal tonight. It was the look that I sometimes saw right before I closed my eyes to go to sleep. No matter what, I couldn't escape him and he wasn't going to let me.

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**AN:** I'm curious to see what you thought about the prologue! The story is pretty much all the way planned so updates should be weekly! Please review!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Two Weeks Prior**

The shrillness of the whistle blew, causing all of the boys to freeze obediently as the noise pierced their ears. I looked around and, one by one, I watched as my teammates placed their dirty hands on their knees, bending over to try and catch their breaths before our coach shouted out his next command to drill us with. I remained standing upright and only exhaling heavily out of my nose to show the coach that I wasn't ready to quit. I am a strong player.

My eyes fought back the high set sun by squinting but I had to keep them forced open when my coach was around. Nothing was allowed to distract me during practice for the next few weeks. Outside of practice I was to keep practicing and doing my schoolwork so I could stay on the team. My friends on my team sometimes called me The Soccer Nazi because of how crazy and committed I seemed about the game. In truth, I sort of am. I have always had a passion for the sport ever since I could walk. I kicked my first ball when I was just two and even knocked over my mum's expensive vase. Before my parent's divorce, I was signed up for a summer sports camp. Those were part of my favorite memories of the summer. Then I later found out that another reason why I was signed up every year was to distract my young mind from what really happening; my family was no longer going to be whole. As I grew older, I channeled my feelings of love and anger into the game. Just from playing I was able to lose myself in my emotions; like controlling the ball, I could control them.

There was another reason why I was so focused on trying to be the perfect player, an underlining pressure that was shadowing me to prove that I am destined for greatness. I had to win this game. This wasn't just any soccer game. Usually, my coach says that about every single game. Our next game is against our biggest rivals, the Dalton Devils. Every time we play them it's a literal blood bath. Fists are thrown and bones are broken. Fans get into brawls in the stands and in the lots after the game. Security is on standby to make sure the match is clean. It never is clean. No matter how hard the township tries to set boundaries for our teams, there is a way to break past them. We don't purposefully try to practically kill each other.

It's not the case for me. There is an entire different reason why I wanted to win. I wanted to wear a grin of pride that was holding a hidden smirk as I looked into his green eyes, the same green as the grass on the playing field. They were the same hazel eyes that glared at me whenever he saw me. They darkened whenever mine met his gaze and whenever he knew that he has gotten under my skin, gotten into me.

Blaine Anderson wasn't just any other player on just any other team. He was my sworn enemy that stood between me and my main goal of being number one. He wants the exact same thing that I want: to be on top.

He was able to challenge me in ways that I didn't even know I could be challenged. Sometimes my mind gets so fired up from wanting to beat him, and then boast about how I beat him, that I let him slip in and take away the power and control that I just had. Then I get angry with him and myself. That makes me have to push myself harder and harder. Both of us run high on our hatred for each other and it just makes us play and fight dirty.

People ask me what it was that made me hate Blaine so much. It's not an exact moment that I can pinpoint because I just think that the negative tension was always surrounding us. Maybe it was like love at first sight; except for us it's hate at first sight.

Something obviously grew from there because each time our teams match off, we get more and more aggressive and physical with each other. The last game we played, I was flagged for elbowing Blaine in the face. His nose was gushing with his bright red blood. Part of me didn't care about the call because I did it on purpose. Who knows what his plan for revenge was. I know that he remembers that. I know he doesn't mind constantly reminding me during an entire game about how he's going to get back at me. I never know when but when it happens, it happens on and off the field.

"Hummel! Get your head out of the damn clouds and pay attention! I do not need you on my team to daydream!" My coach's screaming voice cut me from my thoughts of Blaine. There I go failing. I let him get to me and he's not even remotely near me.

"Shit," I whispered harshly to myself, looking down at my cleats for a moment before looking back up to my coach.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, sir!" I raised my voice, self-motivating myself again for practice.

"Just what I want to hear. Don't be a smart ass. Smart asses get to watch the game from the bench." He pointed at me and then to the bench.

I couldn't sit this one out. I'd be the joke and Blaine would have the greatest time repeating that to me afterwards.

"I'll keep my mouth shut closed. Coach."

"Don't be a kiss ass either, Hummel." He commented, receiving a mixture of laughs from the rest of the guys.

I shook my head. They were the ones coughing up their lungs from practice. I was surprised they caught enough breath to even snicker.

"Okay, now that we've brought Kurt back, we will end this afternoon's practice with shoot outs. You get passed Hudson," his head cocked into the direction of our goalie, and one of my best friends, Finn, "then you get to head back up to the locker room." He brought the silver whistle to his dry lips and blew again, patting some of the boys on their shoulder as they jogged passed him, including mine.

"I want to see you in my office after you change, Hummel." The coach told me in a lower voice.

All I did was nod as I jogged over to the lineup, where one of the assistant coaches rolled me a ball. I stopped it by gently stepping on it with my foot. I rolled it back and forth under the ball of my foot, watching my teammates either miss and get in line behind me or get it passed Finn and grab their waters and head to the change room.

I took a breath as I wiped the sweat from my upper lip, waiting for my turn to score a goal on Finn. I brought my arm back down as I shook out my hands, the anticipation buzzing through my body. I ignored the conversations both behind me and in front of me.

I was up next. My tongue drew out from my mouth to run along my chap and dry lips as I put all my focus on how my feet played a dance with the ball, moving in a face pace with my fancy footwork. My body tried to play off of the goalie's, figuring out where he would move in regards to my own movements and getting that open spot.

My brow furrowed as my concentration completely took over me, my eyes glowering playfully with Finn, hoping to throw him off or dare him to try and stop me.

I brought my leg back swiftly, the force coming back colliding with the ball. I loved hearing the sound of a cleat hitting against a ball. I watched as the ball seemed to fly in slow motion. Then Finn took his dive, his glove-covered hands going to hug around the ball.

I grinned, my top row of teeth biting down on my lower lip as the ball rolled off of his fingertips and hit the back of the net. I celebrated my achievement by balling my hand into a fist and bringing elbow down next to my side before turning around to take my victory jog back to the locker room, not stopping to see if anyone else got a goal.

As I caught up to a few teammates I recognized the familiar number four on the back of my other best friend, Sam Evans. He was a transfer student and he had a big heart as a person as well as when it came to playing soccer.

I placed my arm across his shoulders as our jog turned into a solid fast walk, finally reaching the door to the school and going inside to get to the locker room.

"Hi, bud." Sam said, his pale face sporting flush red cheeks from the workout from today.

"Hey, Sam, you seemed a bit winded." I chuckled as I teased him.

"You would be too if you had to do extra runs because your pre-practice stretches weren't enough to please Coach." He rolled his eyes and shook his head at me, trying to push my arm from his shoulders.

"Yeah, but mine were just fine. So, are still going out with Finn and I tonight to chow down? I promise that I won't try and talk strategy about the game." I had a habit of talking about soccer any chance that I got, even with my mouth full of food. I knew I was going to have a harder time with this game. My friends understood for the most part.

They knew that I couldn't stand Blaine but they didn't know to the full extent that our shared hatred ran. I never mentioned any of the incidents that happened after the games. I tried to bury them but for some reason my mind wanted to keep those moments alive. I wondered how long it would be until they noticed, not that I ever wanted them to.

"I'm sure you won't." He chuckled as I dropped my arm from his shoulders. He took his shirt off and threw it into his gym bag before opening his locker.

"If I do I'll buy all of our meals." I bargained, turning away from his as I did the combination on my lock.

"I'll hold you to that and I'll make sure to make you mention the Devils before I even order. That way I can get a load of a meal."

"Talking about food already?" Finn's puffing breaths came in as he joined our conversation, removing the Velcro straps from his gloves.

"Yeah, Kurt said that if he even mentions anything soccer related that he's buying our meals for us tonight when we go out." Sam told him to fill him in.

"Nice. How thoughtful of you, Kurt." Finn said in a joking tone.

"Cut it out." I said, laughing and starting to undress. I balled up my practice jersey and stuffed it into my sports bag.

"Fine, I'll drop it. I gotta get home to finish up my research paper for history anyway. My mom won't let me go with out until it's finished, printed, and placed into her hands." Sam said. "The woman will probably read it and make corrections while I'm out."

"I happen to think your mom is a lovely woman." I joked, getting a swat from Sam. "I never said I was in love with her, dude."

I went back to finish changing so I could get to my meeting with the coach and then head back home to shower up and do some coursework before heading out with Sam and Finn.

"I'll come pick you boys up around seven." I told them as I closed my locker and placed my bag over my shoulder. I fist bumped both of them before making my way to the coach's office.

I knocked on the door and he waved me in, pointing to the chair from across his desk. His hand touched the bill of his hat to make sure it was straight. His mouth chomped on some mint gum as he walked back and forth across the concrete floor.

"Listen, I know I was a bit snippy at practice today with you. I just know how you can get sometimes and especially with the game against the Devils. I want to you to keep your head on straight." He explained.

I nodded at each of his words in understanding. I let out a breath of air.

"You can have foul play. You teenage boys get that way will of your damn testosterone and cocky athleticism. Just don't make it that the refs throw you out of the game."

"I know. I know."

"And as I always tell you, stay away from eleven. He always gets you raged. You two clash every time you're on that field together. It doesn't need to be that way. You're playing soccer, not a game of 'I heard you slept with my girlfriend so let me beat your ass,' alright?" He asked as he chewed his gum sloppily with each few words.

"Yes, sir. Was that all?" I asked as I sat up straighter in the chair from my slumped position, placing my hands on the arm rests so I could get up and go.

He nodded. "I think so. I'll see you next practice, Hummel." He said, giving me a look and then cocking his head to the door. "Now, get on out of here."

Standing up, I took my back from my lap and threw it back over my shoulder. I walked out of his office, then out of the school's foyer, and finally the athletics center's door.

Another day of practice was done. As the day grew closer to game day practice would turn into two-a-days. I pretty much had those for myself anyway so I didn't have a problem with it. It was the boys who slacked off by staying out late to party or be with their friends and girlfriends instead of focusing on being serious that faltered. The coach noticed and I did as well.

I ran my hand through my sweat and sweaty hair. I couldn't wait to just get home and shower off the dirt and sweat from my body. One of the perks of living so close to the school was being able to walk and have time to clear my head or actually do some thinking; except for in the winter season. All I could think about then was about how fucking cold it was.

I unzipped my bag and took my ball out. I bounced it on the ground as I walked home, putting my mind to ease at the rhythmic sound I created with each of my corresponding steps.

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Once I got home I came in through the backdoor that connected to the kitchen. My mom was probably going to shout at me for keeping on my muddy cleats but I never really cared.

"How was practice?" My mom asked me as she sat at our small kitchen table reading a book and sipping some tea. Her reading glasses rested on her nose as her eyes glanced up to me.

"It was the same as always. Coach is making sure that everyone is in their prime for the Devils' game next weekend." I said as I walked over to the fridge to grab a fresh cold water bottle, some dirt being left on the handle.

"That's good. You boys are having one of the town's best seasons yet. There's no way he wants to lose to them." She said, taking another sip from her mug. She knew the basics when it came to sports. At the games she hung out with the other moms and chatted about things other than what was actually going on.

"Yeah, it's true. I'm going to take a quick wash and get some work done before I head out with Finn and Sam."

"That's fine, dear. Just make sure your uniform gets into the hamper and not the floor. That thing stinks up more than your room, you know."

"I'll try my best." I said loudly back to her as I walked out the kitchen, turning to the hallway to get to m room and then the bathroom.

I set my bag down on the floor as I took off my dirty jersey and shorts. I placed my sports cup back into my bag because I was in charge of that item. After I removed my clothes, I rummaged around for a clean shirt and skinny jeans.

Getting into the bathroom, I turned the shower on to let the water get to the temperature I was comfortable with. Stepping inside, I couldn't help but shudder. I looked down to see the water change from clear to a real light tan from the dirt and sweat from my hair. I closed my eyes as the water ran and trickled all over my body.

Then they snapped right back open when I could practically feel as two hands wrapped around my waist from behind. I brought my hands down with a gasp, feeling nothing but my own skin. I let out a sigh, the water drenching my hair as I kept my eyes down. I wiped the droplets of water that trialed down my forehead to my eyes, squeezing them to protect them.

In my head, I could hear his breathing in my ear as he told me all the things I screwed up on and all the things he couldn't wait to do to me. I bit down on my lip just like I had that night as it all came flooding back to me instantly: the shower, our muddy and scratched bodies touching, the possessive way he stood behind me, and him entering my body like he owned me. Then he left me standing there in more pain then I was in before.

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Please feel free to leave a review! Chapter 3 will be up next week!


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